Beginning the Epilogue
by Hanyou 2 Youkai
Summary: Once one's destiny is fulfilled, what does one do? Why linger on in life when there's not a shred of recovery? When striken by depression, even one's closest friends may abandon you. This is Harry and Hermione's story.
1. Dear Sirius

**Epilogue to My Life**

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Characters related to Harry Potter belong to JK. Rowling.

Author's Notes: Yep, yet another Harry Potter fic, inspired by some personal emotions and what I predict the plot to be once the series is finished. Enjoy.

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****Journal**

_Dear Sirius,_

_I still haven't figured out why I keep writing you, maybe it's in hope that maybe you'll return my unsent letters one day. As silly as the idea is, you've sort of become my only outlet … like a journal. _

_With each passing day, I find myself more and more hopeless. My life leading up to the war was filled with excitement and adventures to fulfill my goal, and once that has been met … I find myself alone often just swimming in my own thoughts. Others have learned to leave me alone when I go into that stage, but still I can't help but wish someone would at least try to pull me out._

_Before the war, I hated attention, every little bit I received from the press or public was ill-received by me. But now, with my two best friends fearful of what I've become, death has by far exceeded everything else in life. I can almost feel the sweet release of it. What is my purpose in life now that Voldemort is a thing of the past? Wasn't that what I was born to do, and now that my destiny has been fulfilled, what is left for me in this world?_

_I mean, no one ever expected me to survive, I have realised that people are selfish. They looked up to me as their protector from Voldemort, nothing more. I once saw Ron and Hermione as just simply friends with no strings attached, but even the purest of friendships once touched by fowl misery and metamorphosis will fade into nothing._

_I'm glad for them, Ron and Hermione, I mean. They've for so long suffered with me, it would be unfair to ask them to stick with me. After all, they're just teenagers too, enjoying each other's company as boyfriend and girlfriend. Who am I to interfere with that? If they wish to ignore me altogether, who is to say they shouldn't? For weeks now, they act as if nothing has changed although the observant notice them holding hands and occasionally hugging around the corner. Am I jealous? No … I don't think. Hermione, to me, has just been a sweet companion and friend, never meaning to be anything more. Yeah, I liked her, we tried to do something about it, but Ron's gloomy expressions and quick-tempered personality impeded us more than we would've liked. In the end, we separated with a mutual respect. It was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done; breaking up with the girl I loved … possibly still love._

_Harry_

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A/N: A short chapter, I know. I just wanted to start the piece on something small and let it blossom in the coming chapters. Reviews are greatly appreciated. 


	2. Close Encounter

**Epilogue to My Life**

Chapter 2: Close Encounter

**Author's Notes**: Well here it is; chapter 2. Really, this is the REAL beginning of the story so I shall obstruct you no longer. Happy reading!

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The sense of impending doom that he used to feel was no longer there, the feeling of angst that once gave him a purpose of existence no longer gave him fulfillment when an opponent was defeated. Well … these days, there were minimal opponents to be finished off in the first place. And thus, 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' began to live up to his name; literally … living was a past tense, a luxury he couldn't enjoy. Of course his heart was beating and blood pumped through his veins as usual, but his life lost the joy, the excitement and the colour that was once common to Harry's world. 

"Morning Harry," The freckle-faced, red-haired boy greeted cheerfully, "No potions today, Snape caught some sort of flu that Mme. Pomfrey can't seem to overcome."

Harry grunted in reply, not really paying attention to his friend as he stared down at his porridge and stirred it some more. "Where's 'Mione?" were the first words that came from his mouth, although he didn't bother to make eye contact.

"Uhh … I don't know, probably still in her dormitory. If you need to talk to her or something, I can pass it by her at lunch." Ron offered while tapping the wooden table resulting in his bowl being magically filled.

"No need … I didn't have anything to say anyways. Quidditch practice at lunch," His voice was still monotone, and even Quidditch seem to have lost its spark. Somehow, his social life had suffered greatly from his developing depression. It was to be expected, from a celebrity to a forgotten hero, the sudden change did bring some unrest within him. Although he had always loathed his title as 'The Boy Who Lived', suddenly being called 'Dumbledore's Dork' was rather, well … less appreciated.

A small sigh escaped his lips when Harry stood up, gathered his books and stalked off to the library. A place formerly only visited by him when either forced to do so by Hermione, or used in some rule-breaking adventure involving the golden trio. 'Nothing gold can stay,' he thought bitterly and sat by the heath while flipping through the text-filled pages of his History of Magic book. The morning came and passed unnoticed, not a single soul bothering or (daring enough) to tell the boy that it was lunch time. Only when his stomach protested Harry's ignorance did the sombre-faced young man leave the library.

Much to Harry's surprise, the great oak doors slammed into his face as he was about to pull on the handle. His nose received the bulk of the impact, for it started bleeding.

"I'm so sorry!" The person who inflicted the pain apologized frantically.

"It's alright … watch where you're going next time." Harry replied, obviously irritated by the occurrence. He didn't even bother to look at the girl who caused it, for his tone would have been drastically different.

"Oh Harry … I was just upset and … just, oh Merlin. Here …" she offered him her handkerchief to wipe off the blood trickling down his nose. It was then that the Gryffindor seeker looked up, accepted the gesture and noted it was Hermione Granger.

"Oh it's you 'Mione. Don't worry about it, you didn't hit me hard." Quickly changing his demeanour and overall attitude towards the incident, Harry offered a small smile. "What was it that caused you distress? … Ron?" he asked, curiosity rising in the subject matter.

Hermione sort of winced internally at how cool Harry seemed to be in regards to his supposed best friend and struggled in the words to find an answer.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry, not everything is that git's fault …" she trailed off, unable to lie to her best friend (although Harry had been acting quite distant lately). Harry realized the inquiry he had just made was rather intrusive and probably private.

"Sorry … just forget I said anything. I won't stick my nose into your business further."

"It's ok, I'm just glad you're talking again." The muggle-born witch smiled genuinely and impulsively pulled Harry into a hug.

"You're … welcome?" Harry hugged back, somewhat surprised by the spontaneity of his friend and spoke once more. "Listen, if Ron ever does anything to upset you again, he'll have me to answer to ok? Best friend or not … I'm still obligated to protect you."

"Oh Harry … you know he means well. He's just well … Ron, and we have to take him as he is." Hermione defended, somewhat flattered that Harry expressed such concern for her although she immediately dismissed any sort of implication of him having 'feelings' for her, as it was rumoured to be. "Oh look, you still have some blood on you. I'm really sorry about that, I'll take you to the hospital wing to get it examined."

"I'm fine, I'm fine, Hermione." Harry tried to reason with her, but she would hear nothing of it. After cleaning off all his wounds, she still insisted that she would at least take a look at it, to make sure nothing is broken. Reluctantly, Harry agreed, "after lunch."

.:-8-:.

Inches apart the pair was. Hermione was inspecting his nose for any sort of damage while Harry restrained himself from laughing. Both were sitting cross-legged on the marble floor in an empty hallway across the Great Hall.

"Alright … everything seems to be in order, nothing bruised or broken."

"Told you so."

"Well I'd have felt horrible had anything befallen your perfectly sculptured nose." She joked, half serious half sarcastic.

"Oh really?" Harry whispered, leaning in real close. So close that his nose was a hair's width away from hers, his mouth conveniently drawing in her every breath. Harry hadn't meant for it to happen, although he knew he wanted to (and secretly hoped it was mutual). It just wasn't fair; how far they've gotten but yet couldn't cross the simple line of friendship like Ron did.

She knew what was to happen, and before she knew it … she was leaning into him too.

Harry regained his senses and suddenly pulled away with a sigh. "Sorry … didn't mean to do that." He muttered, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Hermione too, was flustered and replied something along the same lines.

"Oh good going, Potter! Almost had it there … chickened out just when it got good, what a shame." A laughing voice rose from the corner.

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Author's Note**: Yup, finally updated. Sorry for taking so long. I was lacking ideas. Well now that I have a plan, you can expect updates regularly (hopefully). As always, please review and let me know what you think.


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